


Overextended

by Townycod13



Category: Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02
Genre: Friendship Stuff, a little sad, doing her best, miyako's an awkward kid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-06 01:43:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8729749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Townycod13/pseuds/Townycod13
Summary: Miyako tries her hardest.





	

It was somewhere around high-school entrance exams that it happened. It was the silliest smallest of things but it happened regardless.

When Iori told her _“If you keep up this pace, you’re going to burn out.”_ Miyako’d responded the same way she would to anyone making such a statement. Something along the lines of her knowing her limits and not to worry about her because she’s got a handle on it.

Something along the lines of liking her current pace.

Iori had looked frustrated but he’d let it drop, knowing better than to argue with her on such a point.

If it were anyone else she would have left it at that, she had in fact brushed off the concern of others countless times, but since it was Iori she decided to give it a shot.

She’d try and adjust her pace, who knows, maybe it would help.

That’s not where this all started though.

This started two months prior to that uneventful conversation in a random park.

She’d been at school late, programming always consumed her full attention whether she wanted it to or not and she just always lost track of time, when she’d heard the barest sounds of an harmonica coming from park she was passing.

It was silly, in retrospect, to investigate. There could have been any sort of person lying in wait there; it was only pure luck that it was actually someone she knew.

She’d never, prior to this moment, had a private conversation with Ishida Yamato. She’d thought he was a cute face before this but felt a kind of awkward distance from him, most probably due to knowing his little brother so well and so very little about him.

It was a silly meeting. She’d found him playing his harmonica and somehow they’d gotten onto the topic of music and really that’s where things flew off the handle. They had extremely different tastes in music but their mutual love and passion for the subject led to an engaging debate.

Miyako _loved_ debates. She rarely was able to participate in one due to her friends all being extremely non-combative but when she did have the opportunity, she really felt able to express herself fully.

She worried, occasionally, rarely, from time to time, that perhaps when she talked she just overwhelmed her conversation partner into agreement. This, for obvious reasons, didn’t really sit well with her.

Really being able to let loose with Yamato-sempai had been the biggest relief she’d had in months.

Somewhere in their silly debate an even sillier idea had come into fruition, something to do with collaboration and a project and really getting into something together.

It had sounded like endless fun to Miyako at the time.

And to her, for a long time, it was really, truly fun.

They were usually silly collaborations, a tiny diddy there, a pointless song there; a remix of something Yamato-sempai’s band had played.

It was about a month and a half later that it got a tiny bit difficult. Miyako had exams and decisions to make that could impact her entire future. It wasn’t all that bad or difficult to balance the shared hobby and school; it was a relief after hours of studying and expectations, and terrifying decisions.

It was only a week later that an actual problem arose. Her mothers back strained and her siblings busy with their various lives and just not enough hands to go around. It wasn’t all bad; it just meant she had to do extra hours minding the store.

She told herself it’d be fine and she could keep it all up because she always had.

She didn’t _want_ to quit her hobby. Yamato-sempai was definitely a moody one and she worried if she were to drop out of a project she might lose the friendship.

So she did what she’d always done, worked longer, harder, and for just a bit less but it was worth it. Who needed sleep? She was plenty strong enough to handle a few all-nighters.

Iori’s words had seemed harsh to her when they came but she did want to give it a shot. She knew her friendships were stronger than a few missed hours. She was being silly. She was always being just a bit too silly.

She didn’t actually listen to Iori’s advice until maybe two weeks later but she regretted it when she did.

It seemed, especially at the time, that people depended on her constant pep. If she slowed down, took a breather, admitted that she was flesh and blood and did need to occasional break, that others were disappointed with her. Worse, they seemed irritated.

Now, looking back, it makes some sense to her. To them it hadn’t seemed like her taking a break, it had felt like she was rejecting them. Like they weren’t important enough to her to be a priority. Like it was something she could do easily, because she’d done it so many times in the past, and that she was just being selfish by stopping.

Selfish.

She agrees, if she’s totally honest, something growing up with so many siblings had taught her was definitely that everyone needed to put time and energy in or they were being selfish. If only one person wasn’t cleaning up that person was selfish. If someone wasn’t moving they were selfish.

It had hurt a lot to get this attitude from her friends but nothing had hurt more than Iori giving her that look when she said she couldn’t look at his computer.

Cognitively, now, she could understand he hadn’t connected the dots. He had no idea her entire reason for being so selfish was his earnest request for her to go easier on herself.

He had no way of knowing but it still _hurt_. It hurt so much she wanted to yell and rage and storm away and cry. Because the pressure was killing her, bit by bit, and maybe Iori had been right. Maybe she was going to burn out. And maybe that scared her a lot.

Maybe being told she had no right to stop for breath from the one person that understood her better than she really understood herself was too painful to face.

It was all silly from the beginning, it really was, but she was counting on her hobby to get through this. Even if she had to cut back on everything else fun, even if all her friends resented her, even if she was just a stupid girl with stupid ideas, she really just wanted to have fun and relax just a bit.

Do something she enjoyed.

So she’d been really excited when she’d emailed the lyrics and sheet music to Yamato-sempai. She was really proud of this song in particular and she thought it would sound amazing using Yamato-sempai’s voice. It wasn’t the first time they’d done an exchange such as this, most likely wouldn’t be the last, but she was genuinely excited. She wanted a break from the havoc her life seemed to be at that moment.

When Yamato-sempai emailed her back it was crushing.

She understood, or at least she really tried to, she really understood what he was saying. He wanted to work on his own music right now and he really didn’t want to use someone else’s at the moment and he really wasn’t feeling up for a collaboration piece and she should just finish it on her own.

Obviously Yamato hadn’t sounded so blunt in his email but the message was the same and the intent was clear.

She’d seen it from time to time, moments where Yamato-sempai didn’t seem interested in a project, she’d pretended not to because she really loved these stupid projects.

She knew what he was getting at.

She’ll admit, she’s usually a bit dense about people, but she knew what he meant clearly.

He was sick of doing projects with her.

Perhaps it was desperation or fear or just hope that if she expressed just a bit of how much this specific project meant to her he might change his mind.

So she sent another email.

His final reply was blunt.

He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to and nothing she said or did would be enough to get his help.

There was another insistence that she should just do it herself.

That would most likely be her best option. She knew that.

That didn’t make it less painful.

She didn’t _want_ to finish the piece alone, she thought…

…she’d thought… maybe, just maybe, someone enjoyed doing things with her. That she wasn’t somehow forcing them into it, that the projects were fun.

She should… do it alone.

She had stood at the moment and looked around her messy room, it had suffered over the busy months and everything was scattered and she saw the applications for school that’d she’d been filling out by herself because of her mom’s strained back, and the half finished projects for her friends, Daisuke’s broken portable, Iori’s new laptop that she was updating for him, she saw briefly the homework and the notes for studying and everything in her room. Everything that was hers.

And she’d never felt more alone in her entire life. She sobbed for a few hours, unresponsive to her sisters concerned knocking and disregarded whatever task she was supposed to do that afternoon.

It didn’t matter.

She was by herself no matter what she did anyway.


End file.
